


Just a Kiss

by cold_flame



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, so many different smooches, switching POV, this is completely self-indulgent and also a way for me to practice kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_flame/pseuds/cold_flame
Summary: '“Okay, well then I should probably-oof” he was cut off by Keith launching himself into his chest, his small hands crinkling the uniform, and his face buried deep. It took a moment longer than it should have to get over the shock and tentatively wrap his arms around the smaller boys shoulders, pleasantly surprised at how solid he felt, like granite.“I’m gonna miss you,” Keith mumbled in his chest. Shiro tightened the hug in response, his chin on the other boy’s soft dark hair.“I’ll miss you too, Keith,” he whispered, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away.Shiro wasn’t really sure what possessed him to do it, maybe it was the adrenaline of finally leaving, maybe it was the realization that he wouldn’t be the same person when he came back, but when he softly brushed his lips on the younger boys forehead and heard the soft hitch of breath, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. As he walked toward the ship, he saw Keith’s face fill with wonder  as he touched his forehead gently where Shiro’s lips just were.'Just a self-indulgent fic of Shiro and Keith kissing each other in different ways and how their relationship evolves from each one.





	Just a Kiss

Shiro stared in awe and pride at the large shuttle ahead of them. He was really doing this. He was really gonna go to Kerberos. He felt a twinge of sadness as he remembered the ultimatum Adam had given him. In a way, Shiro understood where he was coming from. But his head had always been up in the stars, and nothing, not even a debilitating illness, could change that.

“So this is it?” he heard a soft voice from next to him. He broke out of his thoughts to look at Keith. The boys eyes were widened in awe and appreciation, and Shiro felt a surge of fondness hit him.

“Yeah this is it,” Shiro murmured.

“Seems kinda small,” Keith said, tilting his head critically.

Shiro chuckled. “Well it _is_ only carrying three people.” Keith side-eyed him, an amused smirk growing.

“Just you and the Holts together for months,” Keith teased, “You’re gonna be begging to come back within a week.”

Shiro felt his resolve weaken, but kept his tone light. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

They fell into silence, which wasn’t unusual, as Keith was not the most talkative person, but it felt different this time, stifling almost.

“Hey,” Shiro broke it, grabbing the smaller boy’s attention, “it really means a lot to me that you came here with me.” Keith’s eyes widened slightly, as he quickly diverted his attention to the sand at their feet, his arms crossed protectively.

“It means a lot to me that you asked,” he mumbled shyly, his pale cheeks getting the slightest dusting of pink. Shiro felt a wave of affection for the younger man. Seeing Keith like this, vulnerable and shy, so contrasted to his prickly and fiery personality, was oddly endearing.

He squeezed his shoulder. “When I come back, I expect you to be preparing for your own deep space mission, maybe even further than Kerberos.”

Keith snorted and turned to face him, any trace of shyness gone, “We’ll see.”

That same strange silence came again as they could only stare at each other, Keith’s eyes flitting between determination and something resembling sadness.

“Hey Shiro, I-” the younger boy started

“Yo!” Matt Holt called from the other end of the ship. “Take off’s in 15 minutes!”

“Coming!” he called back. He turned his attention back to Keith, who resembled a disgruntled kitten. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” Keith muttered. “Forget it.” Shiro couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment. Judging by the hunched over, defensive stance, Keith had probably been about to say something important, but Shiro knew better than to push it.

“Okay, well then I should probably-oof” he was cut off by Keith launching himself into his chest, his small hands crinkling the uniform, and his face buried deep. It took a moment longer than it should have to get over the shock and tentatively wrap his arms around the smaller boys shoulders, pleasantly surprised at how solid he felt, like granite.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Keith mumbled in his chest. Shiro tightened the hug in response, his chin on the other boy’s soft dark hair.

“I’ll miss you too, Keith,” he whispered, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away.

Shiro wasn’t really sure what possessed him to do it, maybe it was the adrenaline of finally leaving, maybe it was the realization that he wouldn’t be the same person when he came back, but when he softly brushed his lips on the younger boys forehead and heard the soft hitch of breath, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. As he walked toward the ship, he saw Keith’s face fill with wonder as he touched his forehead gently where Shiro’s lips just were.

* * *

It had been a long night for Keith. Well, a long year, really. When that pod crashed, there was something that told him he should check it out. So he did. And he went prepared. It was only when those three cadets showed up, one of whom looked suspiciously like another missing Garrison member, that things started to go wrong.

He hadn't known it would be Shiro, but he knew it was someone the Garrison wanted to keep under wraps. Something told him it had to do with Kerberos, that it was bigger even. He almost wasn't able to temper the wave of emotion and pain that hit him when he saw his old friends face, still the same, but also different.

It was when they finally made it to his shack, with the other cadets unfortunately tagging along, that he was able to really assess the changes. Shiro was...bigger.

While he was never small, the bulk he was carrying now wasn't there before. The scar on his nose, which Keith felt a rush of anger towards whoever did that, and the white hair were also new. The most telling thing though was the arm. It was completely robotic now. The only thing stopping him from hunting down whoever put Shiro through all this and ending them were the three stowaways in the next room. He settled for grabbing Shiros left hand in his to ease up the shaking and resting his forehead against the warm skin. Shiro was here. He was _alive_. Keith pressed his lips, as light as a feather, against the knuckles of the unconscious mans hand, and quietly choked back his tears.

* * *

Shiro saw Keith standing off to the side as Kolivan revealed his face to kneel before the Princess, the younger man’s face stormy. Anyone else looking at him as he leaned against the wall wouldn’t be able to notice, but Shiro could tell from the overly stiff stance and the clenched jaw that he was in pain.

Shiro didn’t get the chance to drag him to the healing pod, as he had disappeared the minute the meeting was over. Even injured, Keith could be surprisingly elusive when he wanted to be. But Shiro knew him too well for that to work for long.

He knocked on the door to Keith’s room. He could just walk right in, but he figured he should keep up formalities. When he heard no response, he cleared his throat.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

“It’s not like I can stop you,” he heard the huffed response on the other side. The door slid open as Shiro stepped through and he stopped dead in his tracks. Keith was sitting on his bed, his undersuit unzipped down to his waist with bruises and small cuts littering his chest and back. He watched Keith wince in pain as he applied a healing salve to one of them.

Shiro sighed sadly, “You should’ve just gone to a healing pod.”

“I’m fine,” Keith growled, “I’ve always healed fast anyway.” The unspoken _now I know why_ was left hanging in the air. With a wave of determination, Shiro walked across the room and sat next to Keith, gently prying the healing salve from his hands.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked warily.

Shiro didn’t respond as he started to get to work, trying his best to ignore the Keith’s curious look. He stuck his fingers in the salve and spread it gently across a particularly nasty looking bruise between his shoulder blades. Keith twitched at the touch, but it was unclear whether it was from the pain or because of the cold gel. As Shiro continued, their breathing the only sound between them, he felt Keith’s body start to relax and give in to the exhaustion, and Shiro couldn’t help but marvel at how strong he was. Barring the cut on his right shoulder which would leave a scar, he managed to get away from that trial with only some minor cuts and bruises, but then again, he had always been a lot sturdier than he had appeared.

“Why are you helping me?” Keith asked, his voice soft and raspy. Shiro raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Keith said scathingly. “You were there too. You heard what they said.” Keith hunched into himself, looking incredibly young and small, and finished softly, “What I am.”

Shiro became mute at that. He assessed the smaller man carefully, taking note of the defeated posture and the aversion of his dark eyes like he was prepared for Shiro to reject him. Like he _deserved_ it. Shiro made up his mind as he took in the large burn on his shoulder and pressed his lips on the place just below it, gentle but firm. He felt Keith stiffen and then immediately relax as he pulled away and began applying the salve to the place where his lips just were.

“You’re still Keith,” he finally murmured, “That hasn’t changed.”

And like a coil that had been wound tight, all the tension from his body had been released. Out of respect for Keith’s privacy and pride, and maybe, he thought a little selfishly, a bit of fear on his own part that he would somehow make it worse, he pretended like he didn’t hear the quiet sniffles and heavy breathing.

* * *

  
“You sure about this?” Keith asked quietly, holding a device that resembled clippers, “I’ve never really done it before.”

Shiro chuckles, voice still hoarse, and going right down to Keith’s gut. “I trust you.”

“Too bad,” Keith teased, “the long hair is working for you.”

Shiro ducked his head shyly, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks, and _Oh._ That’s cute.

“I don’t know how practical that would be,” the older man said sheepishly, snapping Keith out of his stupor.

Keith cleared his throat, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just been thinking about how cute his best friend was. “Suit yourself,” he said nonchalantly, his voice still slightly shaky despite his efforts.

Luckily Shiro didn’t seem to notice as Keith turned the clipper-like contraption on. He figured he should just attempt to go with the style Shiro had before, though he had his doubts about his ability to replicate it.

They didn’t say much throughout this process, which was fine by Keith as he wanted to concentrate and he didn’t really feel like embarrassing himself again. It was a comfortable silence, and it reminded him of their days at the Garrison when they would just sit in Shiro’s apartment and enjoy each other’s company, small talk unnecessary. It was almost surreal that they were sitting in Keith’s room right now getting something as simplistic as a haircut. It didn’t feel real. Then again, this whole situation was ridiculous in the first place. Shiro crash landing on Earth, a giant mechanical lion that wormholed them all off into space, Shiro disappearing for months, and then reappearing in a pod, nearly dead, with no memory of what happened to make him disappear in the first place. It was all like a fever dream. Shiro kept disappearing but he also kept coming back, and while Keith’s never believed in fate, it’s hard not to get carried away with the thought that maybe the universe is trying to send him a message.

He took a steady breath as his thoughts started to run away from him again, focusing on the task at hand. He looked almost forlornly at the long, dark locks that littered his floor.

“So uhh,” he finally broke the silence, “I think I’m done?” He went to grab the mirror from his nightstand and put it in front Shiro’s face, taking his seat back next to the older man.

Shiro widened his eyes and just said mumbled “Huh.” Keith wasn’t really sure how to take that.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” he asked flatly.

“No!” Shiro defended a little too quickly, “It’s just shorter than I remember it.”

“I _did_ tell you I haven’t done this before,” he scoffed, not even trying to hide the disappointment from his voice. Looking at it himself, he can see where he’d cut the top and front too short as opposed to the clean lines that he’d had before.

“It’s fine, Keith, I swear.” Shiro smiled brightly, “I like it actually.” Keith felt his heart flutter at that smile and softened.

“If you’re sure,” he said softly, and he knew for certain he probably sounded absolutely smitten. Shiro returned the fond look.

“Yeah, I am.”

They could only just stare for a few moments, the silence feeling absolutely charged with _something_ , but Keith wouldn’t get his hopes up. Shiro was kind. He always had been.

He cleared his throat pointedly, standing up. “Well, uhh, I’ll leave you alone for a while if you want.” He started to walk towards the door when he felt a pressure on his wrist as the cold metal from the prosthetic encircled it.

“Actually,” Shiro went uncharacteristically shy, his head ducked down nervously, “Can you come with me? I’d feel better if you were there.”

Keith’s mind stopped working, and in a particularly bold move that he knew he would hate himself for later, he leaned down to kiss the crown of Shiro’s head, the short strands fine against his lips.

“Sure Shiro. Whatever you want.”

* * *

If you told Shiro three years ago that going to Kerberos would result in him being brought back to life and talking to a sentient robot lion while he cruised through space, he probably would’ve laughed in your face. But as it stood, that’s the situation he was in. Krolia is currently sharing a lion with Pidge since they seemed to get along, which was an absolutely terrifying concept, but Shiro wisely did not mention that. He was currently sitting in the pilots chair keeping watch and listening to Black grumble about being bored while Keith got some much needed sleep in the cockpit. It wasn’t really necessary as the lions would warn them if there was trouble, but he’d been feeling stir crazy and restless recently as his memories between the clones consciousness and his own started to merge.

It was...a lot to take in.

The wolf was settled at his feet, his starlight fur the only source of light in the dark pilots seat. He could feel himself start to nod off from doing nothing but staring at complete darkness when he heard a whine come from below and the telltale ‘pop’ of the wolf teleporting. What he wasn’t expecting was to fall ungracefully to the floor when the pilots chair he was just sitting in suddenly disappeared. He blinked, disoriented, before realizing he was in the cockpit. The wolf whined again as it jogged over to the makeshift bed, where Keith was thrashing and moaning in distress. Shiro had enough experience with nightmares to know that this was probably the reason Keith had been looking more exhausted than usual.

He carefully made his way over to the pile of blankets and sat next to the younger man

“Keith, wake up,” he whispered heavily, shaking him gently.

Keith only rolled over groaning, his body shaky and sweaty.

“Hey, Keith!” Shiro tried again, a little more forcefully, starting to get concerned.

“Shiro…” Keith whispered fearfully, “Please...don’t.”

And that was the last straw for him. He shook the younger man vigorously

“It’s a nightmare, Keith. Wake up.”

“No!” Keith yelled as his eyes flew open, his knife out and body in a sitting position. Shiro jumped back immediately with the Blade only inches from his neck, and Keith sitting across from him, breathing heavily, his eyes a vicious yellow, and Shiro noticed, filled with tears.

“Keith,” he said gently, trying to talk him down, “It’s me.” Keith didn’t move from his stance, his eyes unblinking.

“C’mon Keith,” he kept saying in a strained voice, his hand up in a surrender position, “It’s Shiro.”

As if saying his name was the trigger, Keith’s eyes fluttered in recognition and returned back to their normal dark color.

“Shiro?” he asked in disbelief, lowering the knife. Shiro could only nod mutely as the younger man immediately crumbled, dropping the knife and falling into his arms. Shiro fell back a little as the weight hit his chest since Keith was more solid than he used to be, and also not wearing anything except his underwear, both pieces of information to be put in a box for later use as now was not the time. He fought back the embarrassment and starting rubbing Keith’s broad shoulders (another tidbit to file away).

“It’s okay,” he shushed gently, “You just had a nightmare.”

“You’re here,” Keith choked.

“I’m here,” he affirmed. He could feel moisture going through his tank top, a mixture of sweat and tears. Keith clenched the fabric on his back desperately as he whispered

“Please don’t leave me.” Shiro felt his heart break as he tightened his hold and chastely kissed the side of the man’s sweaty neck.

“Never again.”

* * *

They found an uninhabited planet to camp for the night to give the lions and themselves a chance to recharge. He noticed Lance and Pidge attempting to keep their small fire lit with the alien shrubbery while Krolia watched them attentively to make sure they didn’t hurt themselves. He knew the others were out scavenging for food and exploring the surrounding territory. He spotted Shiro sitting a distance away, propped up against what resembled a tree. He looked lost in thought, his newly white hair shining under the dim firelight like some sort of resurrected angel. In a way, Keith supposed he was.

“Hey,” he said softly, bumping his shoulder and taking his spot next to him, their thighs touching. “You sleep okay?”

Shiro smiled at him, gentle and a little sad, “Yeah. I was just...thinking.” The hesitance made Keith pause.

“Yeah? About what?” he asked curiously, trying to tell him with his eyes _you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to_. Shiro’s eyes softened and Keith knew he got the message.

“I just,” Shiro looked up towards the sky, pensive, “I’ve been remembering things. From the clone I mean.” Keith’s mouth felt like dust as Shiro reached over to touch the scar on his cheek, guilt and self-loathing marring his features.

“I’m so sorry, Keith,” he whispered. Keith put his own hand on top and leaned his face in to the warmth.

“It wasn’t you,” he said firmly. Shiro’s eyes were downcast as he sighed.

“Keith-”

“Don’t!” he cut off. Shiro tried to pull away, shaking his head, when Keith tightened his fingers. “Don’t,” he repeated softly. “Don’t do that.”

At this, Shiro scoffed, “Do what? Apologize for hurting you? I gave you that scar!”

“And I cut off your arm so I guess we’re even!” Keith snapped. Shiro gaped at him.

“What?” he stumbled out, “No! That’s not-” He drew his hand free to stick it on the bridge of his nose and breathe deeply, “Just forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He turned away, closing himself off and like hell Keith was gonna let him do that. Not this time.

“Shiro, no, we _need_ to talk about it. I don’t want you to beat yourself up over it.”

Shiro crossed his arms indignantly, “I wasn’t going to-”

“You were,” Keith interrupted, “You always have. Ever since the Garrison.”

Shiro held his stare for a few more seconds, before he finally sighed in defeat, chuckling wryly. “You know me so well.”

“Yeah I do. And that’s how I know you would never hurt me.” He saw Shiro try to open his mouth to argue, and immediately cut in again. “Haggar did this. Not you. Please believe me.”

“I’m trying, Keith, but I think I just need a little more time.”

“I know. You can take as much as you need. I’ll always be here for you!” Shiro looked so genuinely moved that it almost made Keith stumble.

“Keith,” he drew out his name like it was something precious, “I-”

“Hey! Food’s ready!” They both jumped to attention and saw Hunk waving at them from the fire.

Keith sighed, only mildly disappointed at the interruption as he felt his stomach growl in protest. “Guess we better get going then.” He started to stand, stretching his arms over his shoulders until he felt a satisfying pop.

“Y-you go ahead,” Shiro stuttered, his eyes burning a hole in the ground. Keith paused as he saw the tip of his ears turn pink.

“You alright?”

“Yes!” Shiro squeaked, and then he abruptly cleared his throat. “I- I mean yeah I’m good, I just uhh need another minute.” Keith couldn’t really explain the tension he felt in the air, but it felt charged, like something had shifted between the two of them. Maybe it made him brave, or just stupid, but he leaned down, his right hand carding through the older man’s light hair and kissed his temple, slow and tender. Shiro looked at him stunned, but not unhappy, pink dusting his cheeks that looked rather fetching against his starlight hair.

“Take your time, “ he said steadily, the unspoken _I’ll be waiting_ left hanging.

It was only later when they were all sitting by the fire, late at night, everyone else asleep in a circle of warmth, when Shiro intertwined their fingers between them, his face open and content with gratitude and affection, that Keith started to believe that maybe he wasn’t overthinking things after all.

* * *

Keith stirred under the warm sunlight, the pain in his head shifted to a dull throb. He squinted, his sensitive eyes watery as they adjusted to the brightness.

“Morning, sunshine.” He turned his head, arm blocking the sun, and saw Shiro sitting on the edge of his small hospital bed, orange datapad in hand.

“Morning.” Keith responded, throat scratchy and dry from lack of use, which Shiro must’ve noticed as he put the pad on the tray next to him and leaned back until he was on top of his legs.

“Feeling any better?” Shiro asked, his voice impossibly soft, his prosthetic floating up to caress the scar on his cheek. Keith felt himself melt at the intimacy of the gesture but squashed his hopes down in the box where he put the rest of his complicated feelings.

“My head still hurts,” he croaked, grabbing the arm as it started to float back to its owner and pushing his forehead into the cool metal, the giant fingers practically enveloping his whole head from view. He was feeling incredibly warm, all of a sudden, almost feverish. He saw out of the corner of his eye as Shiro shifted positions, his body facing towards him, his left hand reaching out to grab his wrist, on top of where his pulse should be, just staring at him, his eyes unreadable.

“Apparently, Galra don’t have a pulse.” Shiro pointed out randomly.

“What?” Keith said flatly, but Shiro seemed to be off somewhere else, his gaze growing distant, as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“You were in really bad shape when we found you, and when I couldn’t feel a pulse, I thought-” he choked off, tightening his hold on Keith’s wrist, looking away.

“Hey,” Keith bent over to poke the older man’s cheek until he looked back in his direction, his stormy eyes dull and full of guilt. “It’s gonna take a lot more than fighting a quintessence beast and falling over 100 miles down to Earth to get rid of me.”

Shiro just chuckles wetly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Are _you?”_ Keith asked quietly, so quietly like he was afraid everything would shatter if he said it any louder. That _Shiro_ would shatter. Shiro went silent, looking so hopelessly beautiful as he thought about the past years, of Kerberos, of Zarkon, the clone, _Adam.._ his face relaxed as he looked back at him, looking so young and open as he was before, that Keith almost thought he was hallucinating. The grip on his wrist tightened as Shiro looked at him like he hung the stars themselves, his eyes like a molten pool of metal.

“I will be,” the older man finally spoke, his intense gaze not wavering, and the air charged with something Keith wasn’t fully grasping. Before he could even have time to figure it out, his mother walked in he door.

“The doctor said you should be released within the next few days.” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Wonderful,” Keith said drily. She tsked in amusement and cocked her head in curiosity at the man currently on his lap and blanched. He knew how this must look.

“Was I interrupting something?” she asked innocently, a knowing smirk on her face, as Keith started to feel warm from embarrassment, but before he could retort Shiro sprung up immediately like Keith’s leg was fire and and if Keith hadn’t been suffering from a head injury he could’ve sworn he heard him _squeak._ But his pain medication was clearly affecting him more than he thought because there’s no way Takashi Shirogane, ace pilot and Captain of the Atlas would make a sound so undignified.

“I-uhh” Shiro floundered, his red face standing out starkly against his silver hair, “I was just uhh leaving, ma’am.” Keith raised his eyebrows all the way to his hairline. Ma’am?

Krolia, to her credit, was completely unfazed by his behavior as she asked, “Are you sure? I know Keith won’t mind if you stay.”

Shiro jerked his head repeatedly in something resembling a nod like some kind of broken computer. “YesIamabsolutelysure thank you!” he practically shouted, and Keith watched Krolia school her absolutely delighted expression into something neutral. Keith just thought she looked like a deranged cat tormenting her prey.

“It’s fine, Mom,” he finally spoke up, “he’s a busy man.” Shiro shot him a look so grateful it was almost unwarranted had it been anyone else except his mother.

“Yeah,” Shiro sighed, “the new promotion came with twice the workload.” And Keith was sure that maybe Shiro was getting sick because the taller man quickly reached down and gave him a sweet peck on the nose before bolting out with a ‘See you later!’ so quick that Keith was only able to say “Bye” by the time the man was halfway across the door.

Of all the interactions he’s had with Shiro and there’s been a lot, that had to be one of the _weirdest._ Krolia, on the other hand, seemed absolutely elated by that ridiculous display as she gave Keith the smuggest expression he’d ever seen from her.

“Not a word,” he hissed. She only shrugged innocently as he hid his increasingly warmer face in his hand. He was feeling feverish again.

* * *

“Holy shit, Shiro, it smells like something died in here,” Keith wheezed, his hand over his nose. Shiro didn’t think it warranted that kind of dramatic reaction as he stepped into his old apartment, but he figured Keith’s biology probably gave him heightened senses.

“Well, it has been like half a decade. Probably rotten food or something.”

Keith looked at him in outrage. “You left food here? Wasn’t Kerberos supposed to be like 3 years long?”

“Well, I wasn’t the only one who lived here,” he replied steadily, “so yes, I left food.” Keith went silent in understanding and Shiro felt that dull ache in his chest as he tried not to think about as to why whoever lived here thought they might be coming back. That was for a different time when he was alone.

“Should we start with the kitchen then?” Keith asked hesitantly. Shiro nodded grimly and made his way to the fridge. He knew the sight he was gonna see wouldn’t be pretty as the smell only became stronger. He heard Keith in the next room sliding the creaky window up and shivered at the cool breeze.

“Are we ready?” Keith’s voice came behind him so suddenly he jumped a little. Since he’d trained with the Blades, he’d become really good at sneaking up on people. It was unnerving and Shiro would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on just a little, but those were dangerous thoughts especially with him right there.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay.” And then as Keith put his arms around the handle, Shiro’s eyes widened in horror. If Keith reacted that strongly to the smell at the door, this might actually kill him.

“Wait!” he shouted, grabbing Keith’s arm. “I-uhh,” he stumbled under Keith’s curious but confused head tilt which was definitely not cute or appealing at all and then he finally got across “Maybe you should sit this part out.”

“Okay…?” Keith trailed off, waving his hand forward for an explanation.

“Your sense of smell is stronger than mine, so this might be a bit...overwhelming,” he explained under Keith’s patient gaze. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

Keith snorted. “You’re sweet,” Shiro tried not to blush at that, “but it’s fine. I can handle myself.”

Shiro came up to Keith’s huddled form on the couch, his face still buried into the cushions. He bend down, his hands rubbing the younger man’s back, the soft, wispy dark hairs brushing his fingertips.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Feeling better?”

Keith only gave an irritated groan in response and Shiro chuckled. Shiro normally wouldn’t be amused at seeing the man he loved in distress but ultimately, the whole situation could’ve easily been avoided if Keith wasn’t so stubborn. Shiro tried to be mindful of Keith’s acute senses and Keith had brushed him off only to open the fridge door and immediately crumple and pass out from the putrid stench. He was concerned for the first few minutes because after everything they’d been through, getting taken out by rotten food was a bit anticlimactic in hindsight.

But once he woke up and ran to the bathroom with a horrible retching sound, and Shiro wincing in sympathy, he knew he’d be okay. And that’s how he ended up finishing that particular task alone while Keith buried his face into the couch cushions in the next room, trying to block out the scent.

“Is it over?” Keith’s muffled voice brought him back to the present. Shiro replaced his back rubs with a reluctant but gentle pat.

“That part is. But if you don’t wanna help me finish, then I understand.”

Keith shifted his head to narrow one indigo eye at him before he huffed and started to sit up, with Shiro holding on to his shoulders to steady him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Keith, you don’t have to-”

“I said I was going to so I will.” he said petulantly, crossing his arms to preserve some of his dignity, but it really just came across more like he was throwing a tantrum-and Shiro would be lying if he said he didn’t find it absolutely adorable.

As if reading his thoughts while walking unsteadily to the bedroom, Keith just muttered, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Shiro said innocently, but his smug grin was damning, as Keith sniffed and lightly pushed him by the shoulder, his face hidden in embarrassment.

It was a few minutes of silence after that as Shiro opened his old closet and started to bring the multiple boxes of clothes out for them to unpack and rifle through. He nearly choked when he saw Keith carrying 3 at once on his shoulder like they were nothing, but they quickly got situated, Shiro on the bed, and Keith leaning against the side on the floor. It was a comfortable silence, as it usually was with Keith since he’s never been a big talker, which Shiro has always appreciated. It meant that whenever he did say something, it was that much more meaningful.

It was as he was thinking that he heard the low gasp from below him. He leaned forward, his chin nearly on the other man’s shoulder as he tried to see what Keith had. He grinned with nostalgia as he saw the familiar black jacket.

“Haven’t seen that in a while.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, a soft, fond smile on his face that Shiro wanted to hold close to his heart forever. “I always really liked it.”

“Why don’t you keep it then?” Shiro asked, without thinking. He wasn’t sure if it was the tone of voice, or the way Keith cradled the jacket like it was something precious, but the words just spilled out, and judging by Keith’s surprised expression, with a hint of anticipation, it was too late to take it back.

“You don’t want it?” he asked, almost offended. Shiro chuckled drily

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly the same size as I was then.” Keith paused, and blatantly gave him a full-body once over, only to meet his face again, a cheeky smirk that went right down to Shiro’s gut. And in a husky voice that should’ve been illegal, he just murmured

“I’ve noticed.”

As Shiro was pondering on a response, Keith slid the jacket on and zipped it up.

“How’s it look?” he asked cheekily. Shiro felt his mouth go dry as he saw how the jacket- _his_ _jacket-_ and how it fit the other man surprisingly well, a little too well actually, nice and snug on his broadened shoulders and across his chest, only being a little long in the sleeves. Keith looked at him expectantly and he realized he had been gawking like an idiot, so he quickly and regretfully tore his eyes from the incredible sight.

“G-great,” he choked out, and then cleared his throat. “You look great. It suits you.” Keith beamed at him, and Shiro felt weak at the knees, and had to physically stop himself from pulling him into his chest and keeping him there.

“I-” he started, when he heard a vibration from behind him.

“I forgot I had training with my mom,” Keith said suddenly, looking at the message on his wrist pad. He gave Shiro a soft, private smile. God, he was beautiful.

He managed to get it together long enough to grab his hand and murmur “Rain check then?”

“Of course,” Keith responded, with no hesitation. Shiro felt a small wave of disappointment as Keith removed his hand, but that didn’t last long as Keith then leaned over and kissed his cheek, so tenderly Shiro swore he was dreaming, just like he was probably also just dreaming about Keith pulling away slowly, reluctantly, his dark eyes flitting to his lips.

The moment was broken as Keith practically hopped out of reach, nothing but a fleeting, “Thanks for the jacket” as he made his way out. Shiro had only just processed what just happened as he heard the door close, and filed it away for later.

It was only as he tried to sleep that night and he realized he definitely hadn’t imagined the regret and fear in Keith’s eyes before he walked away, and he wanted to kick himself.

 _Hard._

* * *

Shiro hadn’t sparred in a long time. It had been especially long since he’d sparred with Keith specifically, and he forgot how invigorating it was. Keith had always been fast and vicious, but he’d also been small and undisciplined and all Shiro had to do was use his weight against him. It had been years since then, and Keith had grown. Taller, bulkier, heavier, and even more vicious, and though Shiro was still heavier, he was evenly matched and he was having the time of his life. He hadn’t been challenged like this in a long time without his life being at stake in the process.

He could tell Keith was having fun too by the dangerous smirk on his sharp features. Where he twisted, Keith ducked, and when Keith turned, Shiro slid, they were perfectly in sync, and as Keith’s shirt rode up to expose his cinched waist, Shiro tried not to think about other ways they could be so in tune with each others bodies outside of the gym. It was as he willed those sorts of feelings back that he felt his legs sweep from underneath him as he landed flat on his back, Keith on top of him, his incredibly long legs bracketing him in, strong thighs against his hips.

Shiro absolutely regretted the choice of pants as a rush of blood went all the way down.

He hoped to whatever was up there that Keith wouldn’t notice but that got immediately crushed as he saw Keith’s eyes briefly flit down to his crotch area where his arousal was very obvious now. Keith’s eyes darkened into a midnight as he bit his lip, still not moving from his compromising position, and Shiro was a goner.

Keith stared at him, his eyes roving all the way down which made Shiro tingle with delight, but also couldn’t help but feel just a little bit self-conscious, as he became very aware of the scars that littered his body, and hunk of floating metal where his real, flesh arm should be. Keith’s gaze was piercing and intense and he turned away.

“Shiro…” Keith sighed out. He felt a breeze as Keith finally stood up, holding his hand out to hoist Shiro up with him. Shiro didn’t miss the disappointment on his face as he was unable to meet his eyes, his cheeks tinged pink.

“Maybe you shoudn’t spar with me anymore,” he said. Shiro blinked in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Keith got a pained look, his brows scrunched in concentration, eyes still trained to the ground.

“I mean I…-” he trailed off, and shook his head, stepping back to lengthen their distance, and Shiro felt a sting of hurt at the guarded posture. He knew what being rejected looked like. He’d fucked up.

“Keith…” he tried to say, but he was at a loss for words. He’d been trying incredibly hard to hide his attraction to the other man, but now it was out in the open and he wasn’t prepared for it at all.

“If you need your space from me, I get it,” Keith cut in again, his voice tight. Wait, what?

“Wh-?”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Keith crossed his arms, defensive and guarded, almost like he expected to be rejected and oh. _Oh._ ‘ _Holy shit. Is this really happening?_

Apparently he’d said that last part out loud because Keith flinched away like he’d been slapped, and Shiro realized his mistake.

“No no no no, that’s not what I meant-” but Keith was having none of it.

“It’s fine, Shiro,” he cut him off harshly, “You don’t have to pretend.” Pretend? Keith thought he was pretending? A slight wave of anger hit him at that as he definitely respected Keith way too much to ever lie to him about something so important. But Keith was stubborn and the longer this went on, the more defensive he got.

Keith whipped around to head towards the hallway, and oh crap, he’s getting away, he needed to do something and fast. He grabbed Keith’s arm and Keith whipped his head around, eyes stormy.

“I should probably go-” Shiro threw caution to the wind and slammed his mouth against his. Keith stiffened and Shiro thought maybe he’d made a huge mistake but then he felt firm arms around his shoulders as Keith melted into him, his mouth slotting perfectly into his as Shiro moved his hands up to cup his face, deepening the kiss into something more tender, almost desperate. Keith caught on quickly, tugging on his bottom lip gently as he sucked in another breath. Whatever he may lack in experience, he completely made up for with enthusiasm-he was passionate about everything and kissing was no exception and Shiro couldn’t get enough of him. It was like he was a desert and he was finally getting his first rainfall after a ten year drought.

After what felt like years, he had to reluctantly pull away to catch his breath. He rested his forehead against Keith’s as the adrenaline died down.

“Did that just happen?” he heard a shocked whisper and looked deep into the other mans eyes, wide and blown out, lips red and starting to swell, and Shiro felt a rush of pride that he was able to make Keith look like that, and hoped he could do it a lot more.

“I’ve wanted it to for a long time,” Shiro chuckled in admission, his thumb brushing across his soft skin like a feather. Keith giggled sweetly, and Shiro knew he was probably looking at him like a lovesick fool, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he leaned down to kiss every part of his face he could reach. “Your laugh is beautiful,” he said in between kisses, “You’re beautiful.”

Keith batted him away and put his head in his hands, his face a very attractive shade of red.

“God, you’re so sappy,” he groaned.

“Do you hate it?” he asked with mock insult. Keith gave him an unimpressed look that was completely diluted by the smile twitching at his lips.

“I could never hate anything about you, Shiro,” he declared with complete earnestness.

Shiro snorted. “Who’s the sappy one now?”

“Do you hate it?” Keith sassed, smirking, and Shiro wanted to kiss all that smugness out of him. So he did, and Keith happily reciprocated.

“I love you,” he breathed when they broke apart again. Keith froze, his eyes widening.

“Really?”

Shiro nodded, his hands moving down to Keith’s tiny (truly criminal) waist. “For so long.” Keith threaded their fingers together and whispered “Me too.” Then he gave a mischievous little smile and if Shiro wasn’t in love before, he certainly would be now as Keith continued, “Looks like we have a lot of time to make up for then.”

Which, when they met halfway again, is exactly what they planned on doing. 

**Author's Note:**

> One day, I will write a sparring scene with the horny energy worthy of these 2 but until then you get this. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://waitformethistime.tumblr.com)


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